


My Soul Will Always Find Its Way Back to You

by SlyPieXD



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dominant Sans, F/M, I suck at writing summaries, Obsessive Sans, Possessive Sans, Possessive Sex, Protective Sans, Scary Sans, Some characters get ooc, This gets pretty dark, archive warnings don't apply until later chapters, chapters will get updated quick, chara does not possess frisk in this story guys dont worry, dominant males, frisk always tries to be helpful, frisk can see the future, frisk gets powerful, frisk goes through a lot of shit, frisk has weird save and reset abilities, frisk is a female, frisk is older, genocide route plays across multiple timelines, many ships involved but mainly frans, more tags to be added later if i see a need, other timelines include underfell etc, pacifist route ending is different, papyrus is good at spaghetti now, rape/non-con elements eventually, sans also ages with frisk, sans eventually gets a fashion sense, sans is also a jerk, sans is nice, sans is taller than frisk, tall and short sans, timeline breaking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29938107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlyPieXD/pseuds/SlyPieXD
Summary: When Frisk was 12 years old, she fell into the Underground. She made friends, talked her way out of battles, and stayed true to her promises until the end. As she made her way to finale, her friends came and prevented her and Asgore from fighting, not knowing the true battle was with Flowey, that flower that became Asriel and managed to kill Frisk more times than she ever cared to remember. But with her victory, he promised to find a way to open the barrier for them and disappeared.That was 8 years ago.Now a blossomed, 20 year old woman, Frisk lives in the Underground, being a part of her friends' everyday life and spending even more time with her self-proclaimed guardian, Sans. The peace was abruptly cut off by an error in her save, sending her to a timeline wrecked by a human named Chara, and where she faced a Sans that looked at her with bloodlust, and the stabby human himself.Vowing to fix the world of that Sans, she found her way back to her own timeline, but things were no longer the same. She was plagued at night with visions of being in other timelines, with versions of her friends and family she had never encountered before. Something was taking root in her soul, and she had no way to stop it.
Relationships: Frisk/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. Where Am I?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers and, I assume, fellow Frans shippers! I'm just here to apologise for any mistakes or lack of quality in my writing, as I have not written in years and getting back into it is always very rusty. I just got back into Undertale recently and this fanfiction was pretty much slapping me in the face constantly.
> 
> I just want to say that shit will hit THE fan later. Some dark things will be mentioned/described in the next few chapters, but nothing too explicit until further chapters down the road. I write dark stories with dark elements, and some people ain't okay with that and that's okay. I just wanna put a heads up before you get too drawn into the story and feel queasy with the dark subject matters presented later.
> 
> Sans personality is super hard to write. Like what. 
> 
> Anyway, I tend to write long chapters so first time readers will have a fun time binging and long-term readers will be thankful for a long chapter! I usually like to have multiple chapters out at once, so if you're reading this with only 1-4 chapters up just know another will be posted within hours or the next day. 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy!

Long eyelashes fluttered against pale skin, carefully shielding the vision of the scared woman. She was awake, and not only was she awake, she was fine. All in one piece.

Which was strange, because just a second ago she had splattered on the ground after falling from a crumbling bridge.

The woman carefully opened her eyes, chocolate brown eyes surveying her surroundings. She had reset, and it was  _ jarring  _ too. Unlike her previous resets, this one took her instantly from death to a setting, not allowing her soul to acknowledge what happened and push onward on its own to reset back to her save. The sudden shift had left her breathless, and she now struggled to gain sense of her surroundings.

As she did, she felt piercing anxiety swell in her gut. She had ended up next to a save right before Asgore’s throne room. This was not anywhere  _ near  _ her last save. After she fought Asriel, she saved every so often so that just in case she happened to die, she wouldn’t lose too much, and neither would her friends. A chill ran down her spine as a horrific thought filtered into her mind;

_ Was she about to have to fight Asriel all over again..? _

The thought chilled her to her core. She died many times fighting Asriel, all at different stages, and all..so very painful.. 

She continued to stand there and tried to gain her bearings, thinking carefully about what could have caused this. There’s no way it could be the fight again, as she was a mere 12 years old when she plunged into the Underground and trekked her way up here.  _ 8 years  _ have passed since then. If she had been reset to an  _ extremely  _ old save, wouldn’t her age have reset as well? Something about the hallway felt eerie and off putting. It felt cold and unwelcoming here. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t afraid. This felt nothing like the first time she walked through here… It felt as though if she opened the door to Asgore’s throne room that he wouldn’t be there.

Before she dared to try and enter without knowing  _ where  _ exactly she was, she glanced down the hallway next to her and squinted, thinking carefully about whether or not that hallway was there on her first mission.

Then it clicked--that was where she met Sans before she went to face Asgore! That long, golden hallway with countless pillars, and her friend Sans explaining the EXP and LV of this world, of which she had neither. She was always a friendly, quiet girl, and only began coming out of her shell a few years ago thanks to her mother, Toriel, as well as her friends.

Deciding that the hallway was a safer bet, she began towards it, hands clutched to her chest and hoping that  _ maybe,  _ just  _ maybe,  _ he was there. It seemed all too strange for her to suddenly appear at this particular save. She had saved there once in her entire life, and that was before facing the king and, unfortunately, that hateful flower. Somehow, if that was the case-- _ well even if that was the case-- _ Sans should be able to help her. He always somehow seemed to know about the resets. He had tried explaining timelines to her, but it seemed too big of a concept for her to grasp.

Carefully, she stepped into the room that glittered with an orange vibrancy, the light from outside filtering in and shifting the tones of gold. This hallway didn't feel too different from the one she was just in, only strangely enough, this one felt far more cold. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she glanced at the one save by the entrance, and the chest sitting still next to it. She didn’t bother to touch the save, not while she didn’t know anything going on. She didn’t want to save in a possible different timeline than her own. Though, she was interested in the chest and if it held content. Opening the top with a creak, her eyes narrowed in confusion at the things inside. Previously, she never,  _ ever,  _ held these items. They were too expensive for her to buy on her way here, and thus she never got them. 

_ These cost hundreds of gold alone. Things shopkeepers only sold one of… but there’s multiple in here. _

She quickly shut the chest, the anxiety creeping up her spine. She didn’t want to think about what this meant. She was off-put and the hair on her neck stood up; she wanted to go home.

With this in mind, her steps quickened along the hallway, her small heels clacking in rhythm against the shiny floor. Her palms felt sweaty, and she was hoping with everything she had that Sans was in here. Had she gone into someone else’s timeline? Right before they were to face Asgore? Why had her save shifted over to another timeline?  _ Why...were those items covered in dust? _

The woman almost cried in relief as she saw San’s silhouette in the middle of the hallway, his back facing her. “Sans!” She called out, practically running towards him at this point. 

“Sans, it’s me, Fr-”

Her talk and advance were cut short by a bone shooting up from the ground in front of her, causing her to shriek and halt abruptly. She hadn’t been expecting that. The bone lingered, seeing if she would draw nearer again, before disappearing. Her heart thudded in her chest. She hadn’t realised it, but the air in the room became even more cold and suffocating. His back still turned to her, putting her even more on edge.

Shakily, she whispered, “Sans?” Her hands were gripping each other at her chest, and unexpectedly, she began to feel  _ dread. _

“you’ve got a lot of nerve, kid. i warned you so many times.”

She watched him slowly turn around, and saw a sight she hadn’t quite seen in years. His eye sockets were completely black, his grin still plastered on his face adding a terrifying edge to him. That was when she noticed; this was not  _ her  _ Sans. This was the Sans she knew when she was 12. He was shorter, almost younger it would seem, if not for his “wise beyond his years” demeanor he had. She trembled a little at the burning hatred she could feel from where she was standing, and tried to keep her eyes on the endless black abyss that were his eye sockets. 

She saw his brows furrow. 

“you aren’t the kid,” he said coldly. “but you are another human, and probably with him, since ya seem to be comin’ at the same time.” His expression turned cold and blank again, and the woman flinched. What kid was he referring to? Was it the owner of those items? A human of this timeline?

She didn’t have much time to ponder, as she felt herself still once she saw what was brewing within the skeleton. A large blue pupil had appeared within his left eye, and the blue magic emanating from it looked like fire. 

Her eyes widened. She had seen that look only one time as well, and it was recent. She remembered his magic flaring around him as his ice cold gaze narrowed in fury at her aggressor. She had never seen him so angry, so ready to just  _ kill.  _ She remembered how impossible it was to stop him. He told her even if he didn’t kill the bastard, Undyne, Toriel, and Asgore wouldn’t hesitate, either. She tried to will him out of it regardless. She tried anything, only, telling him it was okay made him more upset and trying to get in between caused him to use his magic to glue her behind him.

In the end she couldn’t stop him. It was the first time she had seen him kill, and she was determined to keep it at that one instance.

Although now, she had a feeling that the chilling fear within her was the same as that monster had before Sans killed him. As she looked at the Sans in front of her, that feeling was affirmed.  _ If she hadn’t been able to stop him then, when he actually knew her, what would stop him now? _

Carefully, she put her hands up in a pitiful attempt at surrender. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she decided to try and show her ignorance of the situation first. “Sans.. I don’t know what’s happening here.. I just appeared here and I’m scared..”

He didn’t budge in the slightest. His expression didn’t shift, and if anything, his eye glowed a little  _ brighter.  _ She wondered what the human he was referring to did to him.

Breathing in shakily, she tried again, “..I was on my way to get Asgore.. So he could come to dinner with my mom, Toriel, and you and Papyrus..Pap was cooking spaghetti for everyone..” 

She spoke softly and earnestly despite her voice cracking, hoping her sincerity reached him. From the way he looked at her before, he thought she was lying through her teeth. 

The blue glowing iris disappeared, and the woman’s breath caught, wondering if she was able to reach him. San’s smile, though still there, suddenly became strained. In fact, it seemed painfully wider. A sinking feeling swirled in her gut. Something she said triggered him. She knew that look.

“do you wanna know  _ how  _ i know that’s bullshit?”

She took a shaky step backwards. She didn’t dare try to reset, not while she didn’t know what was going on or where she was.  _ Not that she could reach it anyway. _

“ **i watched that kid kill them all.** ”

Her breathing hitched as the fire reignited in his eye socket, and she knew what was coming but she was glued to her spot. She hadn’t been in an actual battle since she was 12. She was no longer as spry, and her memory on how to get through them was foggy by now. 

As she threw herself to the side to avoid the blast from the canine skull, she found herself nearly hyperventilating as it obliterated the pillar right behind where she had been standing. She was trying not to give into the panic, but seeing as how he looked down on her with that murderous aura around his body, and how he did not hesitate to aim for her life, she felt her breathing and heartbeat quicken dangerously. What would happen if she died here? Would she be able to reset? Where would she reset to? Would she just fade away?

The sob escaped her before she even knew there were tears spilling down her face. She was scared, confused, and never felt so  _ alone.  _ She knew she was vulnerable sitting on the floor here, wailing like a child. He could kill her now, with just one bone prick. She was no longer as strong as she used to be. It hurt even more that someone who was so close to her could look down at her with absolute  _ bloodlust. _

Surprisingly, he stilled, his glowing eye staring at her with a mixture of confusion and hesitation. If he didn’t know better, it’s like they  _ actually  _ just came here with no idea of what was happening. He had seen the kid before they went on their murdering spree, and monsters hiding in the bushes that watched their friends get killed screamed on for others to evacuate. The news quickly spread about one stab-happy, brown haired kid in a blue sweater. As far as he knew, it was  _ just  _ that kid, but as this human came into the room he felt his hostility towards humans--especially the child--flair back up. With how many monsters’ dust had mixed into the wind today, he realised he no longer wanted to keep his promise to that woman behind the door, nor could he. He had no clue about what kind of humans she had met that she would  _ want  _ to protect one, but allowing that kid to live would destroy what tiny population of monsters there were left. Once he got the kid’s soul and the remaining population went to the surface, he would  _ wipe out humanity himself. _

Something about the woman’s trembling, crying form on the ground made him question his resolve. He remembered the look on the kid’s face when he met him for the first time, and for a second, wondered if what the kid he was looking at was a human. Even now, he wondered, truly,  _ what  _ that freak was. His teeth grit. If  _ she  _ was a true representation of humanity and just happened to walk into a random timeline, what reason was there to kill her?

Still, he could never be too careful. Not with what he had seen. He took a few steps forward, watching her flinch and try to melt into the pillar behind her.

“if you want to try and make nice, i’m gonna need ya to empty your pockets. i don’t have any interest in bein’ stabbed if i come over there.”

Holding herself, she looked up at him and swallowed her next sob. Was he really giving her a chance? She rubbed the tears from her eyes, allowing her to see the skeleton more clearly. Whatever resolve he had made, it meant good news for her. She felt hope spark in her as she saw that his eyes had returned to normal, just two small white irises lingering in the sockets. They watched her every move and expression carefully.

“My.. my skirt doesn’t have pockets,” she informed him, patting down the sides of her skirt and her sweater to try and prove her empty inventory. He carefully watched her pat down her clothing, and warned her that if she tried anything she’d die faster than she could realise he moved.

She nodded, and stood up shakily. “My name is Frisk,” she told him, staring down at him as their heights changed. She remembered being the same height as him, but never shorter. It was as though he had grown in competition with her over the years. But now she stood a whole head-and-a-half taller than him. 

“i’m not gonna’ give you my name because you already know it,” he said gruffly. He was still wary. He had never heard the name Frisk before, and no monsters had uttered it or warned him of one. Maybe she really had just come here at a bad time.

“Well, where I come from we’re close friends,” she explained, her eyes carefully observing him just as he was. She watched as his sockets narrowed. “i’m gonna’ give you the benefit of the doubt and say you’re not  _ from  _ here.” 

“No,” she responded, her eyes crinkling with sadness, “I’m not. Back where I’m from, a bridge snapped as I was passing and I fell 500 feet. I ended up here instead of rewinding back to my last, well… checkpoint, I guess you could say.” Frisk didn’t make any faces, wondering if she would have to explain it. She didn’t know if this Sans knew about saves and resets like hers did, and was concerned about how exactly she could explain it to him. As she pondered, she saw his brows loosen back up and he shrugged his shoulders. “makes sense,” he responded. He still was wary and didn’t trust her, though. He didn’t know how to feel about the situation, in fact it was hard for him to feel anything at all at this point. He had lost anything he had to lose. 

Cautiously, Frisk spoke again. “Earlier you said everyone was gone, that the human here had  _ killed  _ everything,” she said, straining to speak of the sin that the other human did. San’s smile tightened. “Maybe I can help fix this.”

Immediately, a hollow laugh rang out from Sans. “you can’t bring back a dead monster. once they become dust, it’s over. you can’t relate because you get chances,” he said coldly. Frisk knew she was poking a very  _ recent  _ wound. She didn’t even know how she would be able to help or fix this world. Since this wasn’t her timeline, she couldn’t revert to old saves before monsters started getting murdered. 

“Why don’t we go see Asgore and try to figure something out?” 

“because Asgore is bent on destroying humankind after today's events as well,” Sans replied. He wondered if she really knew her situation here. Frisk frowned, and opened her mouth to speak, before a sudden chill crept up her spine.

It wasn’t wrong to say that this chill was nowhere near the one she had felt as she came upon Sans. No, this left her too scared to turn around. More than monsters, more than San’s violent bloodlust towards her, this feeling had her breathing in quickened huffs again. She had no clue why she was scared or what it even was, but her body began trembling as well. There was something coming up from behind. Something that felt like pure, black death.

Her eyes quickly darted to San’s face, seeing his pupils once again gone as he stared behind her. His grin was wide and tight on his face. He never looked back towards Frisk, but she felt her heart stop as a blue glow surrounded her. She knew what this was. Sans used it to forcibly move her a lot in the past or when he was spinning her up in the air. 

Frisk felt her stomach churn as she was suddenly lifted from the ground, and quickly moved far behind Sans, where he finally dropped her on the ground. She didn’t stand up, as her body was still trembling, but her eyes finally looked up to face the ominous dread that lurked before her.

Her eyes widened as they settled on a kid, no,  _ a demon,  _ her mind corrected her. A small child that looked eerily similar to her when she was a kid, sweater and all, but with the menace and bloodthirst of a rampant serial killer. She glanced from the dust coating their hands, to the glinting (oddly clean) knife, and finally, to the eyes that strangely enough seemed to reflect as red instead of brown. There was no smile on their face, instead, she detected frustration. So much frustration, that to a degree, she felt like she had made the same face before as she had to keep coming back to fight Asriel. A thought flickered across her mind that perhaps the thing had fought Sans multiple times before, and died try after try.

“you look frustrated about something, kid. maybe i already had this battle with you,” Sans said, almost a hint of satisfaction in his voice. Frisk saw the knife in the person’s hand clench. Their eyes shifted over to her and she didn’t even see confusion flutter across them, she just felt her gut twitch as it looked as though they analyzed her. After briefly watching her, they stared back at Sans, ignoring her for the seemingly more important topic at hand.

She saw two canine skulls with glowing blue eyes rise up on either side of Sans, and she felt herself inching backwards as the battle ensued. The kid-- _ thing-- _ kept getting endlessly pierced but seemed to heal just fine, and Sans only moved to the side to dodge attacks, his smile growing even wider as the swing of the knife kept missing. With all the powerful attacks Sans threw out there, and how the boy wasn’t dying  _ just  _ yet, her idea that the kid had faced him many times before seemed to be correct. They moved as though they recognized his attacks, but not yet experienced enough to completely dodge them. As she stared at Sans, and how he was doing all this by just barely moving his hands, she felt her throat tighten at the fact that a few minutes ago, she was about to be on the very end of these very attacks. But she also wondered why he didn’t start with all of that and instead chose to fly a single bone at her. Maybe part of him wanted to see how she would react after being attacked.

Shaking those thoughts aside, she watched the battle with apprehension. Even if the boy died, he would keep resetting, again and again until eventually he won. She also had no clue what would happen to her if this world reset again. She knew she had to do something, and so she stood to shaky feet, watching carefully to see if she was being noticed. They were both too preoccupied, and she finally made the decision to make her way over to the save by the door. Undoubtedly, if the kid had died multiple times here, he would have had to save there. If she did something with the save, maybe she could remove him from here. 

Moving behind the pillars, Frisk decided it was better to run than to walk, as even her heels were drowned out by the crunching, shifting, and movements of both bones and the kid. She didn’t know what she would do when she got there. Would she be able to move the save? Delete his history from it? She knew she couldn’t overwrite it, and she had no intention of trying to save here, where she could possibly end up staying forever if she chose to do it. She wanted to get back to her family and her friends. Her eyes watered as she wondered what had happened to her timeline, the horrific thought arising that her world could have disappeared, and that’s why she was brought here. 

She shook her head, panting as she arrived at the save. Unlike before, the word  _ Chara  _ was now engraved onto the star, a sign that the save was being used. She sighed in relief. If she found out a way to get rid of it,  _ Chara  _ would be gone. Carefully, she hooked her hands underneath the sides and pulled, curious as to whether or not it would come up. With all her strength, she used her weight as force and managed to rip the star up from its spot. Her eyes widened, feeling accomplishment mixed with fear rush over her. It was  _ that  _ easy to move a save? 

Suddenly, the ominous chill crept up her back again, and she whipped around, clutching the star tightly to her chest. Her heart stopped as she looked on. Chara’s head was turned a full 180 degrees, staring at her with piercing red eyes. For a second, Frisk wondered if they were dead and their neck had snapped. She was proved wrong, however, when the body spun around to face the same direction as their head, and suddenly the fight with Sans wasn’t the hindrance that needed to be taken care of. 

Chara began to advance, and Sans made a move to attack as he wondered with what kind of idiocy the kid had turned their back to him. As he squinted, he finally realised that Frisk was no longer behind him. 

Frisk felt the fear trickle all the way to her  _ soul.  _ Something kept her glued to the spot. Even though she knew if she stayed there she would die, even though she saw the kid getting closer and closer to her.  _ That isn’t a human,  _ her mind screamed at her. She wasn’t going to be able to talk or reason her way out of this. The kid was advancing towards her, an obvious insatiable desire for bloodlust in their eyes. They had found her more important than Sans, who had killed them multiple times. Who they had just turned their back to with no regard.

In a move so quick she couldn’t tell until it was over, eight canine heads had risen up around Chara and fired in an endless stream, never stopping until long after the soul had shattered. 

Frisk cautiously looked over to Sans, whose eye glowed with blue fire, his grin growing impossibly bigger at the destruction of the soul. He originally wanted to take it and break the barrier, but something told him that at this point in time, it was going to be easier to just obliterate the entire thing. Before he could regain his composure, Frisk began running towards him.

“Sans!” she yelled, lengthening her steps. She knew the limited time between resets, and very soon Chara would be back or Frisk would disappear from this world. She didn’t know what would happen, but she didn’t want to stick around to find out. She was also holding the save, and strangely enough, after Chara died it got even heavier. She had a feeling that it had filled back up with him, and she didn’t want to be standing so close if he suddenly popped out. Gripping the star with her hands, she held it away from her with a hand on top and hand on bottom.

“Shoot this!” She yelled at him. Sans brow furrowed. “shoot what?” 

Frisk stared at him, an incredulous look on her face. “Can you not see this star?”

“no,” he replied, staring hard at the empty space between her hands. Her hands were curled as though she was gripping something, but there was nothing there. Frisk’s eyes glanced between him and the star before shaking her head. She supposed it didn’t matter.

“Shoot anyway,” she instructed. 

Quickly lifting his hand, he pointed near what he assumed was the center of the star and shot a beam small enough as to not disintegrate her arms, but powerful enough to destroy whatever she was holding. 

Surprisingly, the sound of the shattering was audible to the both of them. Sans sockets widened, feeling a rush of cool air rush over him. Suddenly, the ominous feeling was gone. Did she actually have him destroy the kid’s save? He turned his head so his small white lights met her eyes, and he saw her breathe a sigh of relief. She laughed shakily and smiled at him. He felt the urge to smile back, but wondered, in all honesty, what destroying that accomplished. It didn’t bring back anybody, and nothing had changed. All it did was prevent him from fighting the kid any longer and made it impossible to break the barrier.

Frisk quickly realised this and her smile faded. What exactly did she expect? The world did not reset, all it did was remove Chara.  _ Is it because I’m here? Because I’m another human with the ability to save in this timeline?  _ Determined not to let her hope die before she had played all her cards, she licked her dry lips and began to ponder her next move. If Chara had made it only this far, they still hadn’t faced Flowey or Asgore yet. Perhaps she could find something out by advancing.

Taking a cautious step forward, Frisk flashed Sans a half-smile. “I’m not done trying to fix your world yet. We can still figure this out. We just need to meet with Asgore, and I know you said he might kill me off the bat, but if you want me to try to help you will have to protect me,” she explained. His sockets narrowed at her in response. Sighing, she asked, “is that okay?”

Sans shifted from foot to foot and shrugged. “seems there’s not a lot of options left, so we’ll just go with yours.  _ but,”  _ he suddenly added, his teeth gritting as he stressed the next part, “ _ if you do anything else but talk i’ll just let the old man rub your remains off his shoe onto the carpet, get it?” _

Clenching her hands together, Frisk nodded. Luckily for her, she has never done anything other than talk, and with Sans protection it should be easier than if she had gone alone. Giving only a grunt in reply, Sans nodded for her to start walking. As he stared at her back, he wondered if he should go ahead and kill her and take her soul, that way they would be able to break the barrier and reap vengeance for their fallen comrades.

His hands buzzed, clenching as his eye began to glow blue. If today had proven anything, it was that you couldn’t trust humans, and all they had done since the beginning of time was betray and spit in their faces. They had taken everything from them, destroyed everything that was dear to them. Caused the people’s hopes and dreams to flake away day by day, taking a kingdom already forced to its knees and making it fall even lower. He glared at her coldly, his hand uncurling with his resolve.

_ “I was on my way to get Asgore.. So he could come to dinner with my mom, Toriel, and you and Papyrus..Pap was cooking spaghetti for everyone…” _

_ “Well, where I come from we’re close friends.” _

Frisk’s words from earlier suddenly drifted across his mind, easily dissipating the fire in his eye. Suddenly, his terrible conscience reared its ugly head and he found his head shaking. She was clearly important to him, to  _ them,  _ in another timeline, and unfortunately it just wasn’t this one. He couldn’t bring himself to kill her with that in mind, as if she had managed to make friends with him, Undyne, and Asgore, then she really must have had pure intentions. 

He also knew himself better than anyone else, and if they were as close as she said, then he had a feeling that somehow, someway, the him from her timeline would find his way over here and destroy even the dust that would be left of him. She gave the impression of kindness and innocence, but also of very painful naivety. She was going to somehow fix this world? This husk that had been left in the havoc of that kid? 

Still, as impossible as it was, he hoped that she would magically manage to do it.

Frisk glanced back at him and smiled nervously, finally arriving before Asgore’s throne room. She took in a deep breath and sighed, finding it did nothing to help calm her nerves. Still, knowing she had to press forward, she tenderly rose her hands up to the door and pushed it open.


	2. Unsettled Soul

The heavy doors creaked as Frisk forcefully pushed them to the side, timidly stepping into the quiet grey space of the room. The room was littered with dead flowers, and the air smelt musty. Light filtered in from various windows on the roof of the room, causing the brightness in the room to be splotchy.

Cautiously, the woman looked on ahead and saw him, Asgore, standing not in the middle of the room, but sitting on his throne. He looked disheveled, and stared off to the side, despite their audible and visible entrance. Briefly, she wondered if even in her timeline she had ever seen him so uncomposed, but then shook her head as she remembered that what was left of his kingdom was gone in this timeline. Her eyes glanced to his hands, that continued to wring themselves together, an act done in apprehension. 

“Asgore?” Frisk spoke softly, gingerly taking a few steps towards him. His eyes darted over to her, wide and as frightened as a wild animal. They scanned over her, and finally narrowed in confusion. This was not the child he had been warned about. He looked on to the figure standing closely behind her, and his eyes met the white pupils of the younger skeleton brother Undyne had talked to him about. Sans stared back and gave a quick nod.

“this ain’t that kid,” Sans told him. As though the words were water, the apprehension disappeared from his face, and relief visibly washed over him. He rose from his throne and straightened his back, although it did little to help his disheveled appearance. As calm and composed as he suddenly looked, Frisk still felt unsettled. Her hairs were on end, and she glanced quickly around the room.

Suddenly, she felt it. That freezing cold rush from her head to her toes, and the trembling that began in her fingertips. She had never quite been able to forget that feeling, and it still replayed in her worst nightmares.

“Shield Asgore!” Frisk suddenly cried, whipping her head around to Sans. Her eyes were wide and full of dread, and she waved her hands in desperation. The action had to be quick, no,  _ immediate.  _

Immediate it was, as with a rise of San’s arm he encircled the king with a thick wall of bone, and felt a small twinge in his magic as a sharp vine suddenly smacked into it. His pupils disappeared and his brows narrowed in disgust. He knew who the sudden visitor was. That little annoyance that stuck around his brother before going off and causing mischief and havoc all across the Underground, but slippery enough as to never get caught by him. Something he wanted time and time again to rip their petals out one by one and stop on the little nuisance like the insect it was. Although he was pulled from his memories as a hand curled into the fur of his jacket. Looking up, he saw Frisk had moved beside him and was holding onto him in what he could assume was fear. 

“you know who it is right?” 

“Unfortunately,” Frisk muttered. That flower was the most hateful creature she had ever met since the first few minutes of being in the Underground. He was unable to be reasoned with or talked to, even as he used the souls and became Asriel. She shivered, remembering how many times she had died in the process of trying to coax him into opening his heart. Perhaps knowing who the flower really was and what got under his skin could give her an upper hand here, but she didn’t know. As strong as Sans or Asgore was, in their current state they wouldn’t be able to defeat him. She was going to have to be  _ very  _ careful with her cards here.

Suddenly, the flower sprung up in front of Asgore, closer to Frisk and Sans. The woman jumped a little, not expecting him to suddenly appear within such a close proximity. The flower’s face was contorted with hostility, but also a heavy mix of fear, which threw the duo off. For someone that always seemed to know everything, prided himself on being superior, and crushed anything weaker than him, to see the fear dripping from his features was very off-putting. What kind of thing could possibly exist that would scare  _ him? _

“Where is Chara?!” Flowey spat out, his petals curling back as his teeth grit. Frisk couldn’t tell what he was feeling.

“...Chara is gone,” She replied shakily. At first she wondered if this was bad news, as sadness flickered across his features, but then just as with Asgore, visible relief settled over him and his petals uncurled as he sagged a little. He then looked back up at Frisk, almost as though he was seeing her for the first time. He studied her for a second, before saying, “You’re not new to the Underground, are you?”

“No,” she answered, “I’m not.” She thought carefully about her next choice of words. Flowey was still a danger, as he was not only close to the others souls, but also hers, and there was no real protection here. She didn’t want to risk death, not knowing where she would end up next. “But I do know about you,  _ Asriel, _ ” she replied gently. She didn’t want to set him off, but she needed to get under his skin if she was going to get him to leave them alone.

As she thought, the flower was visibly taken aback, as was Asgore. His eyes darted down to the small flower that stared at Frisk incredulously. Asriel was his dead son, and it was a blow to him to have her call the flower that name. However, as he looked back up to Frisk, her eyes brewed with confidence, and she straightened up and let go of Sans.

“I know you have trouble with…  _ feeling  _ things. That you hurt monsters out of boredom. That you searched long and hard for anything that would give you the ability to  _ feel  _ again, right?”

Flowey’s eyes were wide and he stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape as he tried to formulate a response. Seeing this, Frisk continued, “You just want to be able to love and be loved in return right? Just as things were before?”

She saw it. She had weasled her way into that small crevice within him that still had the capability to still feel something, that still held onto memories that deep down he truly still cherished. Asriel still was, after all, a child when him and his brother died. She knew the reason the Asriel in her timeline still lingered near Toriel and Asgore was because he desired to be a family again. This was also why he was unable to sacrifice himself, as he still held on to a shred of hope that they could all be together again. Frisk knew she had to force this desire back into the one before her, as how he was now was not only dangerous, it was  _ sad.  _

Before he could speak, she breathed in deeply and pressed forward. “If you want the thing you’ve always been searching for, you need to go back,” she stopped for a moment, wondering if what she said was setting in. If he was taking the bait. She looked at Flowey, and felt something inside of her twinge as she saw he was leaning forward, hooking on to every word she said.

_ “Back where?”  _ He whispered, desperately waiting for her to finish. There was a way to fix himself? His body? To get back to when he could still feel warmth from being in someone’s embrace?

“Where you  _ fell.” _

Flowey was astonished and mortified. He hadn’t been back there in a very long time. In fact, he hadn’t actually been back there  _ since  _ he fell. Nothing unnerved him more than going back to the place where he never felt his body hit the soft flower patch, and the flowers absorbed the remains of himself. His petals curled. Was this a trick? A sick joke? What did going back there accomplish, exactly?

Before he could voice his growing outrage, she informed him, “Those flowers all have a bit of your soul in them. If you absorb them back up, you’ll have a soul inside you again. You can go back to being Asriel, in your original body.”

Frisk closed her eyes. At least if he didn’t believe her she wouldn’t see herself getting killed. 

The room sat in tense silence for a few moments as the small flower processed the information. Bringing a monster back from the dead was impossible; everyone knew how long the great scientist Alphys had tried to bring monsters back to life and no matter how close it seemed she was, it never succeeded in the end. 

But somehow, as he looked up at Frisk, who seemed to know everything about him, who seemed to win the aid of that “friendly” skeleton, he found himself wanting to believe her. And if she was wrong or had lied to him after all, he could take her soul as well as the rest of them and go above ground with his newfound power. Either way, he had nothing else to lose at this point.

Frisk heard the sound of him disappear back into the ground and opened her eyes, leaning over as she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Her hands rested on her knees as she began to calm her nerves. She didn’t think her heart could take much more of being in the kinds of dangerous scenarios.

“uh, frisk?” Sans asked, and she turned her head towards him. “was it true? can you bring monsters back like that?”

Frisk’s eyes saddened. San’s pupils were gone, so she couldn’t read his expression, but she knew he was thinking of his brother. “In my timeline, Alphys had a theory that monster souls could be regenerated if flowers were to absorb the dust left behind. The chance of someone dying on a patch of flowers though was very slim, and so she hadn’t gotten the chance to test it out but there was something going on that gave her the idea.” Frisk sighed. “It’s too technical for me to try to explain it myself. Let’s just hope she was right.”

Sans didn’t respond, and instead released Asgore from the bone protection. Somehow, the man looked even more disheveled before, and there was a sad, hollow look in his eyes. Frisk and Sans moved closer, and he looked at her, silently asking for an explanation.

And so she gave them one.

* * *

Frisk held her arms closer as she shivered, feeling an oddly familiar tingling sensation in her legs signaling that they were being frost-bitten. Her shoes crunched through the snow as she followed closely behind Sans who led them throughout Snowdin. They were heading to the house he and Papyrus used to share up until Sans was 24 years old. 

After explaining her situation to them and answering various questions about her timeline and being unable to answer those about the next steps to take from here, Sans suggested a break. It was too dangerous for Frisk to continue being out in the open after what Chara had done, and the day’s events were physically and emotionally draining on everyone. Asgore was going to try to make sense of the situation and take care of the remaining monster population. Sans decided that he and Frisk should go back to his place, where they both could formulate a plan with what similar knowledge of the world and timelines they had.

As he led them inside, Frisk sighed as the inside felt only slightly warmer from the outside, thanks to the insulation (no matter how thin it was). It had been like this in her timeline too, before the skeleton brothers realised that humans  _ had  _ to be warm. Meanwhile they didn’t even know the difference between warm and cold because they were  _ skeletons. _

Frisk, still shivering, shut the door behind her and waddled over to the couch, slipping Papyrus’ old blanket over her and settling in front of the fireplace. She looked up at Sans, about to ask him if he could start a fire, but her mouth shut as she realised he was staring at the blanket tugged around her with a blank expression. Frisk could have slapped herself for being so insensitive. It was a habit from her timeline, as Papyrus always had this blanket out for her because it was the thickest. 

Apologising softly, she went to remove it before he waved his hand, his pupils returning back to his eyes. “leave it. i’m sure pap always lent it to you.”

The woman only nodded in response, sinking down further into the couch as she curled her legs up to her chest. Her legs were cold to the touch, and strangely when she touched them she couldn’t feel them. As Sans came around to start a fire for her, he glanced down at her legs that she was trying to rub feeling back into. They were so red they looked like they had been burned.

Throwing a blue flame onto the logs in the fireplace (that were only there for show as they didn’t need it), he watched as it ignited into a tall fire quickly, and Frisk closed her eyes in content. Hopefully the room would get warmer as well now. She meant to open her eyes again and look at Sans to see if he needed anything, but she found her eyelids were much heavier than before. She suddenly didn’t have the strength to open them back up. Not that she had to worry much though, because after lighting the fire and waiting for a moment, he saw she was falling asleep and retreated to his room to do the same. 

The lights weren’t on in the small house, only the light from the fireplace illuminated the room as the light from outside died down, darkening as the sun set for the world above. In a familiar room with familiar smells, Frisk could only concentrate on her slowing breathing, feeling the light flicker on her eyelids. Her body must have been more tired than she realised, as she could no longer think of anything as she fell asleep.

* * *

Frisk felt something stirring her from her asleep position on her back. Her eyes slowly began to open, but she felt a pressure on top of her, limiting her movement. As she gradually began to open her eyes, she squinted at the figure above her that held her shoulders down.  _ Was it Sans? _

Blinking the blur away from her eyes, she found that she was no longer tired, but instead wide awake. Her hands rose and pushed on the thing keeping her restrained and flinched as she felt a solid rib cage. There was noise in her ear, but she wasn’t able to process what it was quite yet. She felt strange and disoriented.  _ Is this a dream?  _ Suddenly, she felt a chill run down her spine as she realised the feeling was similar to the one she had felt when she woke up near Asgore’s throne room. 

Her hands began to push on the skeleton on top of her, her mouth opening and closing to tell him to get off, but no sound came out of it. The skeleton didn’t budge, but the noise became wavy in her ear. She felt like it was a laugh.

Finally, her vision came into focus, and her eyes widened as she stared at the features of what she assumed was Sans. Well, more precisely, she  _ knew  _ it was Sans, but not a Sans that she had seen. This wasn’t the young Sans she was just with, nor was it the Sans from her timeline. Instead, his skull had a crack running down to his eye socket, and what was within those chilled her to the bone with fear. They glowed  _ red.  _ The grin on his face was not one she recognised, as it held an emotion she didn’t quite know, but she shivered as a red glowing tongue suddenly darted out and licked his  _ sharp  _ teeth.

She found herself pushing on his chest harder, her mouth forming the words  _ get off me,  _ and  _ get away,  _ but the sounds never produced from her lips. She was scared, and was genuinely hoping it was a dream.  _ A really, really bad dream.  _

_ “don’t forget that you made me do this.” _

The words growled into her ear made her stomach churn and her fingertips tremble. She felt vulnerable and scared. She tried to plead to him, but she still could not speak. She fought for her voice, and she fought him even harder. She had been in this kind of unfortunate situation before, but with someone else. She knew what he was trying to do.

Suddenly, a claw raked itself down the front of her sweater, tearing it in half down the middle. Her stomach, bra, and cleavage was exposed to him, and she shivered as the cold air made contact with her skin. She felt her throat tighten as his eyes greedily stared down the newly exposed skin, and his freezing claw hooked under her bra. His eyes met with her terrified ones, and he found his dark smile growing even wider. In an instant, the bra was gone as well, and she moved her arm to shield her body from his view. 

Her vision blurred and her eyes burned, and soon tears were spilling down her face. She wanted to go home. She wanted her Sans. Hell, even the Sans she had just been with would be a sanctuary at this point. The woman had no clue how she even ended up here, in such a specific situation, at a timeline unfamiliar to her once again. She didn’t even die. Were the saves just randomly throwing her around at this point?

Deciding she could figure out her situation later, she began to fight back harder, using all of her body instead. She threw herself around, flailing her arms and legs and hitting and shoving his face away. She tried punching his neck, jamming her fingers into his eye sockets, and just about every dirty trick in the book to get away, but all she succeeded in was managing to turn onto her side and making his dark smile turn into a hateful scowl.

He growled as he held her still with one hand.  _ “ya just don’t know when ta’ quit, do ya?” _

His right eye glowed a fiery red as his other claw reduced what remained of her clothes to shreds. Frisk screamed and cried, but nobody came. With her voice now working, she begged him to stop. She apologised for hitting him, and she promised she would do anything if he stopped. 

He didn’t.

_ “Sans please!”  _ Frisk cried out desperately. Her clothes were in tatters and she was seconds away from being pushed onto her stomach completely bare.  _ “Please stop! Sans!” _

“Sans don’t do this!” She screamed, her heartbeat racing in her ears as she suddenly found herself on her back again.

She felt the warmth of her tears still spilling down her face, and the cold air chilling them on her face. As she abruptly tried to sit up, a hand stopped her, and her eyes shot up to see Sans, his white pupils staring at her as he held his hand firmly to her chest. Frisk slowly laid back down, her breath coming out in rough heaves as she tried to gain sense of her surroundings again.

She was at San’s and Papyrus’ old house, and the overhead light was on. The chill of the room told her the fire was out, but the blanket she had fallen asleep with was no longer there. She was still in the timeline previously inhabited by the human  _ Chara.  _ She closed her eyes for a minute, trying to get her breathing under control. Her hands rubbed her face and dried her tears.

Meanwhile, Sans looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face. The events that  _ he  _ had just witnessed was unlike anything he had seen before. He wasn’t able to sleep, in fact he had been simply laying in bed, recapping the day’s events. Ever since his brother was gone, sleep was hard to come by. He thought about the human, and the odd feeling he got whenever she looked at him, as though he felt he  _ should  _ know her, but he didn’t. Perhaps she had visited this timeline before, but he couldn’t remember.

A lot of weird things were happening with the timelines recently, and he was finding himself able to remember more with each reset the kid had done. He looked over at his books over Quantum theory and his journal full of various time anomalies. Some things had been pretty consistent, but this case wasn’t. She had apparently died and ended up here, somewhere she had (probably) never been before. As he was mulling over these thoughts, her screams snapped him right out of it. He didn’t bother to even run to his door, and he found himself teleporting to where she had fallen asleep instead.

That was when the scariest and strangest turn of events unraveled. Frisk was screaming bloody murder, the cover thrown onto the floor in her flailing. Though  _ that  _ was hardly what he was paying attention to. Her  _ soul  _ was not in her body-- instead it hovered above her, the color of it shining green instead of the red he had been seeing within her. The soul’s visibility was flashing in and out, vibrating as it hovered above her. It was as though it seemed to be glitching in and out of the space.

Knowing the severity of the situation, Sans quickly began shaking the screaming and crying woman, yelling at her to wake up. He dug his claws into her shoulders and continued to yell and shake her. It wasn’t doing a damn thing, in fact it seemed like the soul’s presence was fading even faster. Deciding it had come to a worst-case scenario, Sans reluctantly wrapped his skeletal hand around her soul, and felt his magic flair up with something unknown to him as he did. Visions of  _ something  _ flashed before his eyes, but he wasn’t able to discern it. Shaking his head, he pushed it back down into her chest, and watched as it reverted to its red color that she previously had. Then, she shot up, screaming his name out in fear. 

The way she had screamed it, and the words accompanying it unnerved him and made him uncomfortable. He had a feeling it wasn’t some nightmare. She had  _ been  _ somewhere. Somewhere with him apparently, and somehow he felt like a monster even though  _ he  _ hadn’t actually done anything.

Feeling calmer, she slowly sat up and felt her chest and her legs, affirming that her clothes were still there. She sighed. It was only a nightmare. Although for a nightmare, the sensations were painfully real, and the Sans she had seen was too peculiar. For the sake of herself, she decided not to think too hard about it. Instead, she looked over to Sans, who stared at her blankly. She gave an awkward smile and a hollow, shaky laugh.

“I’m sorry for anything weird that came out of my mouth. I was having a nightmare.”

Sans wondered briefly whether or not he should tell her that it was, in fact,  _ not  _ a nightmare. He didn’t know how she would take it. This was a matter that had to do with her  _ soul.  _ Something was going on, and her soul seemed to be hopping timelines like a damn froggit. Deciding it may actually be more dangerous to let her believe they were only nightmares, he told her; “those ain’t nightmares.”

Feeling her smile strain, Frisk only tilted her head in confusion. Of course they were only nightmares. That was all it was.

“your soul is crossing timelines, kid. against your will or whatever, but just now it was  _ outside  _ your body.”

The words felt like a boulder dropped onto her head. At his reply she felt dread drip down her spine, and she raised her arms up to hold herself. So  _ that  _ wasn’t a nightmare? That was real? She was actually about to have that happen to her… by a Sans of a different timeline?

She choked down a sob. There was nothing that could’ve prepared her for this, and nothing had ever crossed her mind that even came close to this kind of situation. She suddenly felt even farther from her home, from her Sans, from her mom and friends. She needed  _ him.  _ She needed her Sans, the one who studied everything about her and seemed to know everything there was to know. The one who knew how to comfort her, and will determination back into her when she had nothing left.

Now, as she stared at the Sans before her, she realised that he couldn’t do what hers could-- this one had already had all the determination within him destroyed. Together, they sat. Hopeless, and unsure of what would become of the next day. Unsure of where she would even  _ be  _ the next day. Frisk had nothing to tether her to a specific timeline, as she figured since she crossed over here that she had no residency here without  _ saving.  _ No matter how much she thought it would help, she still held onto the belief that her timeline was still out there. That everyone was frantically searching for her, begging her to come home. 

It was for that reason that she would not risk saving in this world. She felt like she would never be able to get back to hers if she did that.

Rubbing off--and forgetting-- the feeling of Sans cold hands running down her naked body, she calmly inhaled and exhaled.  _ Right,  _ she reassured herself,  _ let’s try to wait this out. _

“you okay?” Sans gruffly asked, his face expressing some degree of concern. The woman smiled gently at him. “I’m alright. I’m not going to get anything out of crying about it,” she laughed. Maybe part of her actually did want to cry about it, but it wouldn’t do anything for her. It would probably actually make her feel worse than she already did.

Frisk stood up and stretched, winking at the skeleton. “Are you hungry?” She asked.

“i think so.”

“Good. I’ll show you how to make spaghetti the way Paps showed me.”

* * *

Frisk stared at the dancing fire in the fireplace, gingerly rubbing the dark circles under her eyes. She had been here for  _ 4 days.  _ Not only that, she hadn’t slept for 3 of them. After that one event, she was unable to sleep at night in fear of her soul going to another bad place. She wondered at what point the hallucinations would start to set in, as she didn’t think she would be able to  _ ever  _ go back to sleep. 

As it began to get brighter outside, she became fully aware of the fact that she had once again spent her entire night staring at a fireplace. During the day, her and Sans would talk, and she would cook for them. Sometimes they would leave his house, but there wasn’t much awaiting them outside. There were no more inhabitants of Snowdin. Papers littered the floor in front of the fireplace from when her and Sans were trying to write out ideas or strategies. At this point, even what little had remained of her determination was gone. She was painfully tired, and she just wanted to go home.

As dawn settled upon the world outside, she heard San’s door creak open, and he came to sit next to her. After a long period of silence, he finally sighed. “kid, i think it’s time for you to try and save here. you’re gonna kill yourself from the lack of sleep.”

“If I do that, I don’t know what will happen to you, or to my world. I’m scared,” she whispered, her eyes staring solemnly into the snow outside. She had never actually seen it snow in this version of Snowdin. It just seemed cold enough to retain it, but new snow never fell.

“i really don’t care what happens to me at this point,” Sans replied. “whether you saving resets my world, destroys it, or brings you back to yours, all of them are fine with me.”

Frisk sniffled, turning her head to look at him as her eyes watered. She couldn’t tell if the lack of sleep was making her over-emotional, or just making her eyes dry. “I don’t want you to  _ die _ ,” she whimpered. “if i do it’s not like i’ll complain about it,” he laughed. The woman winced. She didn’t want him to die, but she didn’t want him to continue suffering either. He was all alone here. He truly had nothing left. Nobody here did. Was she really doing them a favor by risking the destruction of their world?

She couldn’t really make informed decisions at the moment. Her brain was mush. She turned and stared back out at the snow outside, remembering that there was a save not too far from here. There was one back out near the bridge that leads into Snowdin. It was a little bit of a walk, but wouldn’t be too bad.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” She whispered hoarsely. She didn’t know why she was doing this. She wanted and needed so many things at the moment that she felt unable to know whether or not this was the right decision. 

“of course.”

“Will you walk with me?”

“of course.”

Just like that, they stepped outside of the small house, Frisk finding her legs felt like jelly as her strength failed her. Still, she had to keep moving. She clutched the blanket tighter around herself and leaned on Sans for support, and he walked in rhythm with her. Not that he knew where the save was, but she knew, and that’s all that matters.

No words were uttered between the two of them, as all of Frisk’s energy went into just moving her legs forward. The cold helped wake her up somewhat, but her vision blurred in and out from fatigue. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she prayed that they would get there faster. That this would work. That no matter what, this would give either her or him some sort of relief. 

She crumpled to the ground in front of the save, her legs unable to move any further. The freezing snow bit at her legs angrily, but she didn’t mind it. With a sorrowful look in her eyes, she looked back up at the Sans of this timeline. She didn’t know what was going to happen next. This could be the last time she ever saw him. This could be the last time he ever saw anything. She worried for him, and what would become of this world. 

Watching her shivering form, Sans took his furry coat off and draped it over her shoulders. He didn’t feel the cold, and he felt his soul twinge painfully as he saw the sadness on her face. He waved his hand, trying to shoo her worries away. “go on.”

Frisk nodded, and turned her attention back to the star. She rose her hand to touch it, and stopped just before. A tear slid down the side of her face. “I’m sorry, Sans. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything for you.”

Sans turned away from her, feeling discomfort rise as the loneliness crept up his spine again. “just make sure you get your old pal sans a few bottles of ketchup for me alright? and not that cheap heins stuff. i’m talking ‘bout the ones grillby makes.”

She couldn’t bring herself to laugh. It hurt too much. She wished with all her heart that she could bring him with her. A sob escaped her throat as she held his coat to her chest. Unable to say anything else, she touched the save.

A sudden rush of air suddenly flew past her, and she felt her soul settle down within her.

Suddenly, she looked towards the sky.

It was snowing.


End file.
